Why Diwali Does Not Need Another Festival's Identity to Establish Its Universal Message

India's pluralism has never depended upon the erasure of religious identities. It has endured because different communities have been able to preserve their traditions, celebrate their festivals and participate in a shared national life without being required to make their cultural identities interchangeable. Yet, in contemporary political discourse, there is a curious tendency to equate inclusiveness with cultural equivalence, as though the distinctiveness of one religious tradition must be explained through the vocabulary of another to make it socially acceptable.


The reported description of Diwali by Congress president Mallikarjun Kharge as "khushiyon ki Eid" raises an important question that deserves consideration beyond the immediate political controversy: why must a festival be identified through the cultural vocabulary of another faith to communicate its message of happiness?
Perhaps the intention was entirely cordial. Happiness, fraternity and goodwill are universal human sentiments, and there is nothing objectionable about invoking them while extending festive greetings. Indeed, Indians have traditionally exchanged greetings across religious boundaries with considerable warmth.

A Hindu wishing a Muslim on Eid, a Muslim greeting a Hindu on Diwali, or people from different communities participating in one another's celebrations are familiar expressions of India's social generosity. Such gestures strengthen relationships precisely because they recognise differences while transcending barriers. But there is a distinction between sharing happiness and making distinct religious traditions appear interchangeable. The former enriches pluralism; the latter risks diminishing the very identities that make pluralism meaningful.


Diwali is not simply a festival of lights, sweets, shopping and family gatherings. It occupies an important place in the Hindu civilisational imagination, with religious, philosophical and cultural meanings accumulated over centuries. For millions of Hindus, it commemorates the return of Shri Ram to Ayodhya after fourteen years of exile and his victory over Ravana. The illumination of Ayodhya symbolised the joyous return of a beloved king and the restoration of righteousness. The festival also carries other important associations, including the worship of Goddess Lakshmi and regional traditions celebrating Lord Krishna's victory over Narakasura. Its observance varies across India, reflecting the extraordinary diversity within Hindu religious and cultural life. These traditions are not incidental details that can be discarded in favour of a generic description of festive happiness. They constitute the inheritance that gives Diwali its distinctive character.


Beyond its religious narratives, Diwali carries a philosophical message that transcends the boundaries of a particular celebration. The lighting of a diya represents the enduring human aspiration to move from darkness towards illumination, from ignorance towards knowledge and from unrighteousness towards righteousness. The Upanishadic invocation, "Tamaso ma jyotirgamaya", expresses this aspiration with extraordinary simplicity and depth. The light of Diwali is therefore not merely an external spectacle. It signifies an inward awakening, a renewal of ethical consciousness and the triumph of knowledge over ignorance. Its universal appeal emerges from its own philosophical foundations. It does not require another religious tradition to validate its message.


Eid, equally, possesses its own theological foundations, spiritual discipline and historical significance. Its observance derives meaning from a distinct religious inheritance, just as Diwali does from Hindu civilisation. Respecting Eid does not require Hindus to interpret it through the symbolism of Diwali. Similarly, respecting Diwali does not require Muslims to understand it through the vocabulary of Eid. Both festivals can inspire generosity, compassion, fellowship and happiness without being culturally identical. Why should difference be treated as an obstacle to harmony when it is, in fact, one of the defining characteristics of a plural society?


This question assumes greater significance when examined against India's constitutional understanding of secularism. The Constitution guarantees freedom of conscience and the right to profess, practise and propagate religion, subject to its provisions. This freedom is not a concession granted by the political establishment; it is a fundamental constitutional guarantee. Secularism cannot mean that citizens must dilute their religious identities to demonstrate their commitment to national unity. Nor can the majority community be expected to explain its festivals in apologetic language to establish that it respects other faiths. Cultural confidence is not communal arrogance, just as the assertion of religious identity is not necessarily an expression of hostility towards another community.
India's civilisational experience offers a more mature understanding of coexistence. Its history encompasses philosophical disagreements, religious encounters, cultural exchanges and traditions of accommodation. Hindu civilisation itself has sustained multiple schools of philosophy, diverse forms of worship and different interpretations of spiritual truth. The Northeast, with its remarkable mosaic of indigenous traditions, religious communities, languages and festivals, offers a particularly compelling illustration of how cultural identities can coexist within a shared social and national framework. The region's diversity does not become meaningful by making every tradition resemble another. Its richness lies in the preservation of distinct inheritances alongside mutual accommodation. The same principle must inform the national understanding of pluralism.


Political leaders have a particular responsibility in this regard. Their words do not remain confined to the occasion on which they are spoken; they contribute to the larger vocabulary through which society understands its cultural and religious inheritance. Inclusiveness is undoubtedly desirable, but it must not become an exercise in cultural imprecision. A leader can speak of Diwali as a celebration of happiness, hope, righteousness and the triumph of light without having to associate it with Eid. Likewise, Eid can be appreciated for its message of charity, compassion and spiritual renewal without being compared with another festival. Such recognition is not divisive. It is an expression of intellectual clarity and mutual respect.


There is also an important question of reciprocity. Would it be considered necessary to describe Eid as "Diwali of happiness" to make its significance accessible to Hindu society? Would such a comparison deepen an understanding of Eid, or would it invite questions about why its own identity was insufficient? If the distinctiveness of one festival deserves recognition, the same consideration must extend to another. Cultural respect cannot operate through selective standards.


The real test of India's pluralism is not how frequently its political representatives invoke religious equivalences, but whether every community enjoys the freedom to preserve its traditions without suspicion, embarrassment or discrimination. A society becomes harmonious not when its differences are rendered invisible, but when those differences cease to be sources of insecurity and hostility. Christmas need not be interpreted through Diwali, Gurpurab need not borrow the vocabulary of Eid, and Eid need not acquire the symbolism of any other faith to command respect. Each tradition has its own history, sacred associations and cultural memory. Their coexistence is the substance of Indian pluralism.


India must resist both cultural homogenisation and the temptation to confuse superficial equivalence with genuine harmony. The confidence to celebrate one's inheritance must coexist with the generosity to respect another's. Neither requires the surrender of identity. Diwali can remain profoundly Hindu while its message of light, hope and righteousness finds resonance far beyond the Hindu community. Its lamps do not diminish the light of another faith, nor does the light of another tradition diminish its own.


A plural society does not ask its festivals to borrow one another's identities. It asks its people to respect the identities they cherish. Diwali has its own name, history, philosophy and civilisational significance. It needs no borrowed vocabulary to explain its happiness, and no external endorsement to establish its place in India's cultural inheritance. True inclusiveness begins not with the renaming of traditions, but with the recognition that every tradition has the right to remain unmistakably itself.